I think I know how Alfie the Dog must feel when he gets out of the car expecting to have arrived in the Yorkshire Dales only to find he is being dropped off at the kennels while we go off somewhere more exciting without him. Driving here with one of my dearest friends; finding a nice little cafe for lunch; being shown to my bed; unpacking my dvds and magazines – it has all felt oddly like being on holiday. Only now that I’m lying in the semi-darkness of a hospital ward, listening to a symphony of snoring and thinking about what tomorrow will bring does it begin to feel as though I really should have read the small print.